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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152625">i like i like i like i like [i like everything about you]</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mevanss/pseuds/mevanss'>mevanss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Soul Eater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Party, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, and kid is an anxious mess lol, details might be off bc I haven't read the manga in a minute, idk if this counts as an AU but it doesn't feel like it/isn't supposed to be, im bad at tagging lmao, these bitches gay, they r so soft for each other, this is really just a self indulgent mess but u should def read it anyways</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:41:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mevanss/pseuds/mevanss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you have ears? Are you even listening to me? You’re, like, mad sexy bro-” </p><p>“Please don’t call me sexy and bro in the same breath,”</p><p>Kid attends a house party and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Black Star/Death the Kid, Harvar D. Éclair/Ox Ford, Kim Diehl/Jacqueline O. Lantern Dupré, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i like i like i like i like [i like everything about you]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been in a funk lately so I figured I'd write myself a little something in honor of graduating high school (it still hasn't sunk in). Threw all these mfs into a house party setting or whatever. Anyways, thank you for reading! The title is a lyric from Claws by Charli XCX because it's my favorite song at the moment.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s at Soul and Maka’s apartment for a party that he would maybe consider below him, because dear death, is it messy, but it’s graduation, and Kid, just this once, was maybe going to get messy himself. </p><p>It isn’t exactly his scene, sweaty bodies stumbling and crashing into each other; pushing up against one another in the dark. The flashing strobe lights he had no idea his friends owned irritate his eyes and there’s definitely speakers somewhere, because this music is loud. Kid can feel the bass course through his body from his feet to his head. It thumps in his ears. He’s never heard a single song on this playlist and chuckles to himself a little bit, because that makes him <em>“indie”</em> when, in reality, he feels like the music he listens to is more tasteful. He knows it’s conceited, but where are the instruments? Why is everybody talking? He respects the storytelling; the lyricism and poetry elements, but connecting with other people and their words has never been a strong suit of Kid’s--they don’t understand him, nor does he understand them, but he can empathize with the cry of a violin. With the wail of a trumpet. The heartbreaking pang of a harpsichord. </p><p>This house party is <em>truly</em> a lot to take in.</p><p>He goes to the bar set up in the kitchen and acquires a drink of whiskey and...blue Hawaiian Punch (ew) and chooses to lean into it, because that’s his only option at the moment. Whoever brought mixers is an asshole. It isn’t…..the most repulsive thing he’s ever tasted. </p><p>He’s drank before with his close friends, but he doesn’t know how to mix things and he hasn’t had much variety in his liquors. If Black*Star acquires things for the group, it’s White Claws and cheap vodka, and if Soul is the one left to pick up, it’s PBR and cheap vodka. If any of the girls are left to do the job it’s almost always wine, usually red, and everybody ends up crying by the end of the night. The tears are often more punishment than the hangover he pays with the next morning. The exception to that is Liz who, surprise, will get vodka. Not as cheap as Soul and Black*Star’s though, despite the fact that they all pitch in money. </p><p>Kid was glad to have shown up to this party with his weapon partners, as they tend to be less socially inept than him. However, Liz and Patty are long gone. The two split off long ago to go chat with some of the other girls in the grade. He hasn’t seen anybody he knows by name in a while. Who the hell are all these people? How do Soul and Maka know them? Are they underclassmen? Do they go to Shibusen? Is he that unobservant? He makes a mental note to pay more detailed attention to students at the academy who he doesn’t run in the same circles as. </p><p>Not that that will matter anymore. He and his close peers have just graduated. There are no circles to run in for him, he’s really an employee now. His friends are leaving him behind to do world changing work in other places. Kid will do world changing work from the same room he was created, for as long as he needs to. </p><p>Right about now, his name feels ironic.</p><p>It’s weird being your friend's boss at such a young age and becoming their boss under your late father’s untimely death. As is life, he supposes. But, also, this weird brand of nepotism he is experiencing nobody else truly understands. Not really. Maybe there’s one person who would have understood, almost understood. On a different level, but that didn’t really work out. Having your life completely planned for you before you’re “born” due to being a chunk of somebody else’s soul kind of sucks. You actively do your job everyday, but in the end is it your choice? Or are you just complicit to the sick bitch known as fate?  </p><p>A girl he recognizes (and should definitely know the name of) from some of his classes appears out of nowhere and nudges him with her elbow to garner his attention. She has two (quite large) shot glasses in each hand, filled to the brim with some kind of liquor. The girl flashes him a smile, and hands him two of the glasses. Their hands meet and hers are sticky from what he assumes must have been an exodus to get them safely into the middle of this crowd from the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen. As he expected, the glasses are also sticky. </p><p>“You looked a little lost,” she tells him, “figured maybe this would help. I get anxious in big groups too, but some companionship and a shot or two tends to help. Cheers, to graduating or whatever,” her hand extends toward his and she clinks their glasses together before he can think to do the same. Nonetheless, they down their shots at the same time. Kid’s face puckers at the bitter taste; the girl giggles a little bit. </p><p>“That was harsh,” Kid says, smacking his tongue to the roof of his mouth to try and soothe his taste buds, “but not as bad as the mixed drink I’ve been nursing”. He shakes the red solo cup in his hand not holding his second shot. She quirks an eyebrow, grabbing the beverage. He happily lets her. </p><p>Her face twists and she coughs immediately as the drink hits her tongue. Kid watches helplessly as droplets of the concoction escape her mouth and spray onto him. He flinches and wipes the spray off himself, which he knows she sees. </p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em> is in that,” she inquires, the look on her face evident of disgust.</p><p>Kid shrugs, “Jack and blue Hawaiian Punch.” </p><p>Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head back and forth, “you’re off your rocker,” she says, and he laughs a little. He figures now is as good a time as any to take this second shot. </p><p>They cheers. They down their shots. They smile at each other. They continue on with casual conversation for a little while, about things like stupid class curriculum and lunatic teachers and petty gossip that made its rounds through the school years ago back when they were kids. How crazy it’s all been. Eventually though, she sees one of her close friends and waves him goodbye.</p><p>He wishes he had learned her name.</p><p>Kid starts to move around the apartment again and realizes that, yes, the shots do make things feel easier with so many people around. That’s how the alcohol gets you. You feel good, so you keep drinking more and more and the haze stops you from realizing you’re not the one in control anymore: it’s the booze. It’s sort of like madness, he thinks, although madness has never left him hovering over a toilet bowl for hours on end with nothing left in his stomach but bile. Madness leaves you feeling a different kind of empty. </p><p>At some point a guy from the graduating NOT class offers him a cigarette with a soft smile, placing it in his breast pocket with a pat, his fingers lingering just slightly. Kid accepts the inhalant with great enthusiasm and offers him a smile back. Part of him thinks that he should maybe just throw the cigarette away, because death knows they’re terrible for you, but then it hits him (once again, for the millionth time) that he is now immortal. “<em>For realzies</em>” as Patty would put it. He is a young immortal and has time to kick this addiction he has picked up too easily from the hybrid conference-game nights with Stein and the rest of the staff that he feels out of place while attending, but he’s their boss. God, he’s like, the <em>boss baby</em>. He’s like that stupid film that came out. How have none of his friends made this joke yet. How is he this funny?  </p><p>Kid twirls the slender white tube in his hand, “fuck it,” he says quietly to himself with a smile, and begins to make his way toward the balcony, which has a few other Spartoi members on it. </p><p>“Hello Kilik, Ox” He addresses the two boys, Kilik leaning against the railing while Ox sits on the ground in front of him, with a nod. “Kim, Jacqueline you are looking,” Kid looks them up and down, “suspicious?”</p><p>Kim and Jacqueline have awkwardly angled themselves toward the corner of the balcony, so that they’re both just peering over their shoulders; both of their hands are out of his sight. Kid raises his tip toes. The stealth of these top students is staggeringly low. They are <em>obviously</em> making a blunt. He knows what those are. Liz, Soul, Patty, and Black*Star started sneaking off to smoke those sometime after the battle on the moon. It’s none of his business, so he's never made a hubbub about it, but Maka would pitch a fit every time the four of them came strolling back to the group, red-eyed, giggling, and smelling of herb. </p><p>“Do you think I’m a snitch?” Kid asks with a little bit of a scoff; they stay silent. “Who am I going to snitch to about you two <em>making</em> a blunt?”. There’s a snicker among his crowd of peers, “Myself? Maybe I’m breaking some specific rule in the school code of conduct, that I know cover to cover, but really I see no harm being done. View me as a simple classmate, <em>please</em>. Enlighten me in blunt making,” he flourishes at the end of his statement, trying to emphasize as much as he can that he’s their comrade and not an authority figure. </p><p>“First of all,” Kim snickers, “it’s called rolling. You should take note of that because right now, Kid, you sound like a moron,”. The two girls turn around so that he can see their set up and show him the business of it all, in great detail too. He picks up none of it, but continues to nod along anyways and hopes they can’t tell. Kid watches their group of four smoke the thing. It is passed to him once, though they stress to him a million and a hlaf times that there’s no pressure to do so. He knows this. It’s completely his choice when he tries to inhale and takes in too much smoke.</p><p>Kid is left coughing for the better part of five minutes. </p><p>The group finishes their smoke break while Kid settles his coughing fit. They all gather their things and brace themselves to head back into the party when he realizes he forgot completely what he came out here for: a lighter. He asks Kim, though she just raises an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“Dude,” she says, snaking her arms around Jackie’s middle and nuzzling up to her neck, “I don’t light my own blunts,”  She drawls, placing a small kiss on Jacqueline’s jaw, “my girl handles that for me,”. The latter untangles the two of them, dragging Kim into the crowd as her favorite song starts to blast through the speakers. Harvar drops a small red bic into his hands. Kid looks up and gives him a nod. </p><p>“You’ll be seeing more of me. Ox kind of wants to teach I’m pretty sure, and I’m kind of Ox’s weap-”</p><p>“Siiiiiiiiiimp!” Kilik laughs, interrupting to smack Harvar on the shoulder, flash Kid a goodbye smile, and charge back into the apartment with full force, closing the sliding glass door behind him with so much force that it bounces back open. </p><p>“-on partner, so I guess I want to teach too. We’ll be around.” Kid quickly pulls the cigarette out of his pocket and lights it. He tries to return it to Harvar, though the other boy waves him off, telling Kid to keep it. “A drag will do,” he says, and Kid hands him the cig. Harvar inhales once and Kid can hear the hiss through his teeth. He hands it back. “Thanks man, I’ll see you soon,” Harvar says, leaving Kid alone on the balcony. </p><p>He thinks about following the four of them and rejoining the crowd; Kid sits down on the patio damp from the Nevada humidity instead.</p><p>He watches the party through foggy glass doors made opaque by condensation created due to the sum of people crammed into the apartment. Kid watches as people come and go. It reminds him vaguely of his mirror, although there’s a lot more awkward eye contact involved with people watching. He doubts his peers were expecting him. It’s really hard to party with somebody who’s basically your principal and on the verge of godhood. Maybe that’s why that girl did those shots with him or why that guy gave him this cigarette, nothing like offering an authority figure a bribe to make them like you more (to shut you up and get on your good side), Kid thinks as he takes another drag. </p><p>He smokes it until he spins, pulls it across the pavement of the balcony (like a horrible guest) to put it out, and shoves it in his pocket. This is inherently gross, because it’s going to make his left pocket smell, and his left hand smell if he wants to put it in his pocket, but he’s not a litterbug. </p><p>At some point Kid closes his eyes and lets himself feel his body sway from intoxication. It feels good. He’s pretty sure it isn’t long, because he doesn’t fall asleep, but when he opens them he isn’t alone anymore. </p><p>Black*Star has quietly sat himself down beside him, legs sprawled out against the pavement, opposed to his own much more conservative knees-tucked-into-the-chest method. It’s nice to see somebody who knows he’s really just a person, Kid thinks.</p><p>“Dude it fuckin reeks in there,” Black*Star announces, eyes closed, his head resting against one of the rungs of the balcony fence, “Like, listen, I can party. I can boogie, I can get down, you know? I’m the life of this thing, but that place reeks of booze, vomit, piss, and pot in a seriously bad way. Like, that shit is gonna take Soul and Maka weeks to air out, if not longer. She’d be off her rocker about it too if they weren’t off somewhere fucking.”</p><p>Kid snorts at his blatant remark and replies, “they really aren’t subtle, no.”</p><p>“You’d think for people who “aren’t involved” and are “just partners”” Black*Star says, using air quotes to emphasize the delicate nature of Soul and Maka’s relationship, “that they’d have semi-public sex less frequently.”</p><p>“I suppose so.”</p><p>They go quiet. Kid doesn’t know how to extend a conversation about the frequency that Maka and Soul engage in inappropriately displayed sexual acts. He isn’t exactly comfortable with that topic of conversation. It’s still quiet. It stays quiet. Kid decides to speak.</p><p> “Does it really smell that bad in there?” </p><p>“Kid,” Black*Star pauses dramatically, grasping Kid’s shoulder intensely, “I say this with the utmost certainty. That apartment smells worse than any other place I've been in my life. In my whole entire life, Kid. I've been in public men’s rooms in the city that I would rather make a home and raise a family in than be in there any longer. Every person in there…is...so….. brave.” Black*Star wipes a sarcastic fake tear away from his own face and then turns toward Kid. He looks him in the eyes for what feels like hours, though Kid thinks it might be closer to a split second (the longest split second of his life, death). Black*Star grabs him by the nape of the neck, and pulls him in. </p><p>Black*Star plants one on him. </p><p>Everything goes up in flames. Every nerve ending in his body is wide awake, maybe his nerves have reached enlightenment and opened their third eye, this is incredible, and Kid is loving every moment of it. It’s amazing. It’s glorious. It’s fucking exhilirating. It’s...over. And he had barely closed his eyes. </p><p>“You taste like a menthol,” Black*Star says, pulling his face away from Kid’s. Kid watches as a trail of spit between their lips gets longer and longer as the blue-haired boy backs up, and then sees it snap back toward both of their respective mouth’s. Disgusting…..ly hot. Ew. This, however, doesn’t keep Black*Star from sticking out his tongue and puckering his face like he’s just drank sour milk.</p><p>“You have a problem with that?” Kid just barely manages to get out. He’s sure he’s cherry red right now.  </p><p>“Nah,” Black*Star shrugs it off, inching back toward Kid’s face again, the softest smile on his own, “I just didn’t peg you for a ci-” Kid kisses him this time. And it is still glorious, even more so than the last. Black*Star pulls Kid in closer, and Kid wraps his arms around Black*Star’s back. He feels as Black*Star works his hand up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Why do his hands feel so good? Did he just moan? </p><p>He feels Black*Star laugh into his mouth. He definitely moaned, and he needs to get out of his own head, but he can’t because fuck it is the hottest thing when Black*Star slips his other hand down his back, ever so slightly under his shirt, and presses into the small of his back. It shouldn’t even be that hot, but when Black*Star’s other hand makes its way under the hem of his shirt he can’t help himself: Kid moans again. His hands keep making their way up  and gosh it is like lightning. He runs his fingers through Black*Star’s hair and tugs ever so slightly. He feels Black*Star shiver.  </p><p>The validation from the other boy is the best feeling yet. </p><p>Kid had mostly come to this party as a formality and was expecting to leave forty five minutes in, allowing himself time for a nice night. He was going to take a bath. Possibly light a few candles...who is he kidding he was going to light eight. This, however, is so much better. So much better. This, shockingly, isn’t his first time kissing somebody. Kid’s been to other parties, ones where he didn’t know the people.  Parties that he wore strategically pinned beanies to, so as to go unidentified by his lines of sanzu. Those stupid fucking lines. Those interactions had been fine, the boys handsome enough, but nothing ever as good as this. None of those guys even came close. This might be...scratch that, <em>is </em>the first kiss he’s had with feeling.</p><p>“I don’t think…..we should keep going….at least….for…...where we are,” Kid breathes out between kisses, unaware if he’s actually able to stop at this point. If his lips were glued to Black*Star’s due to some sort of witch’s curse, well, he wouldn’t complain. He doesn’t care about breathing right now, or the fact that quite literally anybody could see them, because all he cares about is the next touch he can get.</p><p>“I think-” Black*Star gets out, removing his lips from Kid’s and starting to make his way over Kid’s ear lobe, across his jaw, and then moves down to settle in the nook between the base of Kid’s neck and collarbone, “-that we should just keep making out then.” The blue-haired boy moves his mouth sloppily against his skin and Kid chooses to omit the shame he would normally feel about the giant hickey that is definitely on his neck now. He can’t bring himself to face the fact that he thinks he wants more of them though. </p><p>“I do quite like how this feels, but I--aah!” Kid gasps, “You bit me!”</p><p>“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Black*Star speaks into his neck, and before he can continue, Kid pulls away. </p><p>“Weeks?”</p><p>“....”</p><p>He can still feel Black*Star’s breath hot on his neck. Neither of them have moved. He’s frozen time like he asked for earlier, though this is a little more awkward. </p><p>“So, what, do you have like.... Feelings for me or something?”</p><p>They stay silent. </p><p>“You didn’t notice?” Black*Star doesn’t look him in the eyes, “you….weren’t..uh..flirting back? Cool..coolcoolcool cool,” he says, pulling himself away and pulling down his shirt. “Cool. <em>Cool.</em>”  He ruffles his own hair. Kid’s heart skips a beat. </p><p>“<em>You’ve</em> been flirting….with <em>me</em>?”. He’s more than taken aback at this point, and is getting grossly turned on by the minute ,”you’re kidding right?”</p><p>“<em>Why</em> would I be kidding?”</p><p>“<em>Why</em> would you be flirting with me?”</p><p>“Cuz I think you’re hot, bozo. Duh.”</p><p>“You think I’m hot?”</p><p>“Do you have ears? Are you even listening to me? You’re, like, <em>mad sexy</em> bro-” </p><p>“Please don’t call me sexy and bro in the same breath,” Kid somehow manages to get out, his voice cracking slightly.</p><p>“-not to mention that you’re like..smart and cool and you smell really nice….like a mix between my spice cabinet, some fancy bubble bath, and dirt…..” Black*Star continues to drawl on and at some point, Kid’s hearing turns off and all that he can do is focus on the soft, sincere look on the face of the boy in front of him. Black*Star is twiddling his fingers in the most endearing way. Kid hadn’t even realized the other boy had been flirting with him….for weeks. Weeks. Damn, he is dense. </p><p>“-and sometimes while you’re writing in class you chew on your lip a little bit and dude, that shit makes me <em>swoon</em>.” </p><p>Kid grabs Black*Star by the hand, and he turns toward him, but doesn’t look into his eyes. He doesn’t think he can. He might explode. Kid is, once again, sure his face is bright red. He can feel Black*Star staring through him.</p><p>“I am bad with my feelings, and apparently other people’s as well” Kid says, and squeezes Black*Star’s hand tighter, “so, I’m sorry I didn’t notice your advances,” he pauses for a moment to take a deep breath, “however, now that you have made it exceedingly obvious, I, uh,” he turns his face away, “<em>thinkImightlikeyou</em>,”.</p><p>“What was that?” Black*Star asks, leaning into Kid’s neck again and wrapping himself around him. Kid can hear the smile on his face. He turns his face so that he and Black*Star are now cheek to cheek and looks him in the eyes.</p><p>“I said I think I might like you,” Kid speaks at a whisper and Black*Star beams him what may be the biggest smile he’s ever seen. Kid leans in and presses a soft kiss against Black*Star’s lips and the other boy happily reciprocates.</p><p>This time around, he just gets to focus on kissing Black*Star. Honestly, kissing him feels…...wet. and dark. If it were not for the hormones surging through his body, he can’t tell if this would be anywhere near as pleasurable. Kid doesn’t really understand why this appeals to him, to his body, so much. Kissing is gross in theory: sucking on somebody’s germ filled face hole that is meant for consuming nutrients to keep the body going. In execution though, it is kind of incredible, and this messes with Kid’s head. Evolution is <em>weird.</em></p><p>His whole body is hot and Black*Star’s hands are back under his shirt and suddenly they’re back where they were and farther. Kid’s shirt is mostly unbuttoned and Black*Star’s pants might be undone but he can’t tell because his eyes aren’t open. Black*Star wraps his arm around Kid’s back and pulls the boy onto his lap. Kid just laughs and inhales deeply, getting a whiff of Black*Star’s aftershave, which he would consider borderline noxious it it wasn’t Black*Star wearing it. Now it just smells good. Like <em>him</em>. </p><p>Black*Star nips at his jaw again. Kid feels his heart jump and his stomach churn in a good way. No. <em>No</em>. His stomach just churned in a very <em>not good</em> way, actually. He quickly peels himself away from a deeply concerned Black*Star, leaps to his feet, leans over the railing, and vomits toward the ground three stories down. Apparently he’s no good at deciphering the difference between horny and nauseous, Kid thinks as he throws up again.</p><p>“Dude, what the hell did you eat? That shit looks like split pea soup!” Black*Star says through a fit of laughter while rubbing slow, soothing circles between Kid’s shoulder blades. </p><p>Kid dry heaves a few times and feels as Black*Star winces at the sound of it. He rests his head against the cool metal of the balcony when he thinks he’s done with this round and recounts the variety of beverages and liquors he’s consumed that night to the other boy.</p><p>“Are you out of your mind?” Black*Star asks in reply, still laughing a little bit, “has nobody told you to not mix liquors? The shots are already intense as it is, but Jack and blue Hawaiian Punch? Are you serious? Are you <em>really</em> serious? That’s putrid, dude. No fucking wonder your puke is the color of Shrek. I just bought that juice because Tsu sent me to the grocery store to pick up mixers and it’s the same color as my hair, so I had to get it, but I didn’t think anybody would be stupid enough to mix it with dark liqu--”.</p><p>“Wait,” Kid stops him, the post-vomit haze slowing his processing speed, “you brought that toxic juice?”  </p><p>“Well I didn’t think people would actually end up mixing it with things, I just assu-”</p><p>“It is a <em>mixer</em>! What do you mean you didn’t think people would use it to <em>mix</em>?”</p><p>“Well who in their right mind would mix with blue Hawaiian Punch?”</p><p>“People who don’t want to drink whiskey straight?!”</p><p>“If you don’t drink whiskey straight then you shouldn’t be in the EAT class. Mixing is for wimps.”</p><p>Kid lifts his head at this statement to look Black*Star in the eyes, “you should be careful what you say,” he says, ”You do realize you just called The Grim Reaper a wimp, don’t you?”</p><p>Black*Star snickers, “yeah, I do, and I can call you that, because while I’m standing here, <em>chillin’</em>, you’re hovering over Soul and Maka’s railing half-naked and just a tiny bit covered in vomit,” he ruffles Kid’s hair and the latter blushes, rushing to button up his shirt that he’d forgotten was undone in the first place. He hopes that it’s done up properly, but he knows it most likely is not. </p><p>“It was you who unbuttoned this, thank you very much,”</p><p>“<em>I</em> think it looks nice that way. You’re like a little wasted Calvin Klein model,”</p><p>Kid just sighs and drops his face into his hands, unable to think of a retort and leaning comfortably into Black*Star’s side, his head resting in the nook of the taller boy's neck. The two of them stand there for an immeasurable amount of time in a warm, summer silence. He’s close enough that he can feel Black*Star’s heartbeat racing, just like his, and knowing that makes him feel some sort of way. It’s a good feeling. </p><p>Before either of them can speak again, Kilik’s voice sounds out of nowhere, “Patty, this is getting a little too domestic for my taste. Text me if things get interesting again,”.</p><p>The two of them whip around to see that a small crowd of their peers has formed on the other side of the sliding glass door. Both of Kid’s weapon partner’s are there, Patty holding a large bowl of popcorn and munching on it happily while Liz sips something out of a blue solo cup. Tsubaki is there as well, looking slightly flushed and trying to hide behind Liz, so as to not embarrass Black*Star, Kid assumes. Worst of all, though, Soul and Maka are there.</p><p>“Hi Kid!!” Patty says excitedly, waving a handful of popcorn and waltzing onto the balcony. The rest of his friends follow her lead and file out behind her.</p><p>“How long have you been watching,” Kid asks through his teeth, untangling himself from Black*Star and trying to straighten out his clothes.</p><p>“Well,” Patty starts, “sis and I came to check in on you after we ran into Harvar who said you were out here, but you were kind of busy sucking face so we left for a little while because I’m not that nosy, so I left to get popcorn and Liz got a drink. Then we ran into Tsubaki and Kilik on our way back, which was right in time to see you yack over the railing,” she laughs and Kid can hear Tsubaki and Liz snickering as well. </p><p>“What?! You threw up over the railing?” Soul asks, and rushes across the balcony to peer over the fence. “Maka, the downstairs neighbors are gonna have our heads on a platter...Kid threw up on Jerry’s outdoor couch,”</p><p>“Well it isn’t <em>our</em> fault that man believes cushioned furniture should be outside,” she snarls, brushing off Soul’s fear, “besides, he grills fish like <em>every</em> night. Nobody wants to smell that in the sweltering heat. Kid did us a favor, if anything,” Maka turns to him, “Frankly, if there’s anything left in you, you aim for that couch, okay? Jerry deserves to scrub sludge,”. Soul raises an eyebrow at her and maneuvers the solo cup she’s been holding out of her hand, muttering something about how she’s had more than enough for the night. Maka does not fight back and instead plops down onto the ground, her skirt pooling around her knees. </p><p>“So,” Liz says, leaning back against the railing, “are you two a thing, or what?”. Kid and Black*Star look at one another and try to communicate without speaking, but it doesn’t work well. Before either of them can manage to say anything, Maka speaks.</p><p>“God, I wish that people would stop asking that,” she slightly slurs, hunching inward with a sigh and rolling her eyes.</p><p>The group laughs as Soul crouches down to her level, places a hand on a shoulder, and tells her that the question wasn’t directed at the two of them. Maka turns bright red and hides her face in her hands with a huff. </p><p>“I’ve been following her around all night like a freaking bodyguard to make sure she didn’t do anything she’d regret in the morning,” Soul says, sitting down next to Maka. She shoves him. “Ow!”</p><p>“You don’t need to talk about me like I’m a child you know?”. She then pulls a strand of his hair, which makes him flinch, and proving Soul’s point. The group falls into steady conversation, not dissimilar to the ones they have when it’s just them around. Kid watches as his peers smile and pass casual touches around and thinks about how lucky he is to have them in his life. How kind it was of fate to place such genuine, caring people in his path. And, as he falls into place in Black*Star’s lap, the ninja placing a soft kiss upon his hairline, Kid knows there’s nothing else in the world that he could ask for. </p>
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